


◇Five Oneshots/Imagines!

by Wabbajackle



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Alcohol, Alternate academies, Apocalypse, Arson, Blood and Injury, Bugs & Insects, Co-workers, Crimes & Criminals, Drugs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Life Partners, Literary References & Allusions, Mental Health Issues, Meta, Murder, Oedipal Issues, One Shot Collection, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Bonding, Superpowers, Tropes, Weird Biology, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25949983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wabbajackle/pseuds/Wabbajackle
Summary: Oneshots and imagines based around Five, featuring you! --In various alternate universes, sometimes with strange superpowers, of course.I'm always open to suggestions. If you can think of a cool/strange superpower, please comment it! You don't have to be an AO3 member to make a comment, just so you know!I have read most of the comics. I started the third book, but I'm not done yet. I've watched the show multiple times too, so if you have anything content-centric to suggest, I'm also down!
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Reader, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 81





	1. Imagines|| Complicated attraction-- If you worked at the commission PT.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if it's not the best quality, but I don't really edit imagines because I like to keep them low stakes, that's why they're so quick to write. Forgive me on that.

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-When you were first assigned to him, he completely blew you off, so of course you didn't interact all that much. He just felt you’d get in the way and quite frankly were just there to spy on him

-He mostly went about his business as if you weren't around, and didn't bother ask anything about yourself. He wasn't interested-- only, he was going to learn whether he liked it or not.

-You caught him off guard when leaning on the rail of your hotel balcony, not knowing he was on the roof able to listen. You were scolding yourself, hiding your face in your hands. Coming all this way, uselessly, cursing yourself for not being able to do a thing. He didn’t understand, but his confusion led to suspicion and the need to monitor

-The next morning you met in the dining hall for a continental breakfast, but unlike usual, he came out of nowhere and slid you a plate, taking his seat next to you which was odd because he always woke and ate earlier than you-- and Five wasn’t known for being kind in any way

-You stared at him in disbelief for a few moments, though he didn’t like the way you looked at him, there was just something about it

-”Don’t read into it. I slept in.” He huffed, annoyed by you, though for a split moment his eyes meet yours and he suddenly feels uncomfortable

-He’s decided he hates you more than the rest of your coworkers. You annoy him, but you don’t even have to do anything, you just exist and he wants to get away. He’s only keeping you around to please the commission, and he doesn’t think you’re even smart enough to see that he’s using you

-He pretends to keep his eyes trained on the morning news while you pick at your food. He may not have been looking at you, but Five was listening, and using his peripheral to watch. When you finally thought he was looking away, you looked at his face again, and he clenches his fist as your expression changes, one he can’t read without looking at over at you

-So he catches you staring, and sends you a glare though his brows knit in confusion. You look down, but your eyes flicker up to his, and once again he’s uncomfortable, like he’s frozen in place and afraid moving might give away something, even though he’s not sure what that might be

-He takes a sip of his coffee, and you watch, though you’re seemingly lost and he feels a sudden flare of nervousness he can’t explain. You’re acting as if there’s something wrong, and he looks around the room for any potential threat

-The suitcase. You had to take it without him noticing. You excused yourself without a word to him. You mostly didn’t speak to each other, but this was different, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. He didn’t like it. 

-He scooted out of his stool, suddenly paranoid, and went to go follow you to see what you were up to because he definitely didn’t trust it-- only to reach for the handle of the suitcase and it’s not there-- he panics.

-You’re gone, and he only catches the swing of the door. His only hope is to sweep the city streets, checking anywhere and everywhere. He could only hope you didn’t get far. 

-He found you an hour later after a frantic search, draped in a long black overcoat and drunk to high heaven covered with blood in an alley, hugging the briefcase-- and he suddenly felt enraged. What the hell were you doing? 

-He pointed his revolver at you as he approached, and it was aimed at your head. As you looked up at him though, you laughed a bitter, sad laugh. Your face had been wet with tears, and you lifted a hand to flip him off. 

-”You have five seconds to tell me why you took the briefcase, and why I shouldn’t put a bullet through your brain right now.” He presses. 

-You scoff, and run a finger over your busted lip. What an ego he has, five seconds. What a joke.

-He doesn’t falter, but his eyes flicker for a moment to watch. He doesn’t know why it makes him tense. “Three!” He reminds with anger in his tone, clicking the safety off. 

-You won’t talk to him, won’t look him in the eye. Once again, you hide your face in your hands. He reaches one and is about to pull the trigger when you look up to him, and show him what you’re hiding in your coat. It’s a kid, but he’s unconscious. All he can see is black hair, but suddenly he’s itchy. 

-The hair on his neck stands. 

-He doesn’t understand. He waits a few moments, before deciding to speak again. ”Are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to point this at you all day?” He growls out at you. 

-”..Trust me, I had a very good reason to do what I did." Is all that you're giving him, and he lowers the barrel though still keeps up the hostility.

-”..And why should I believe you?” He asks, but you just look down at the kid you’re cradling into your chest, and smooth a stray messy strand down before shifting him. 

-”You got the equations wrong again, Five.”


	2. Imagines || Unauthorized Vacation-- If you worked at the commission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I know some of this is more oneshot like, but it's definitely not as full fledged and more what if-y so I guess I'll categorize it as a detailed imagine. 
> 
> They definitely aren't my best works, but they're super easy to write and I don't stress over them so that's why they're nice. I hope you don't mind!

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-So what if you were committing a federal offence and could have your pension thrown out the window? You wanted a vacation after the Tampa Bay fiasco, and where better than a beach house on the Outer Banks in North Carolina to reinspire the two of you?

-Of course, he’s unhappy with you the moment you link his arm with yours while walking down 40th Street, New York City in 1967 and you push him into a small inlet out of sight

-Before he could push you off or pull out his gun, maybe beat the piss out of you, you pat his shoulder and suddenly the ground is slipping beneath him

-He falls on his ass while unfortunately bringing you down with him, and makes a fist, though he lifts up his hand instead of throwing it at you, and sand comes sifting out from the cracks, blowing away with the wind

-Five is the last person to be caught pinned down on the beach in what may have been a romantic scene if not for the fact that the two of you hate each other (well, that’s subjective) but he slumps and slaps a hand over your wrist as you cover his mouth with your hand

\- ”Relax Five.” You humm at him, pleased with yourself. “I designed these briefcases, I know how to work them without getting caught.” 

-He knew you’d become an engineer in the time gap of when you left him in Kansas, but you didn’t tell him you made the briefcases. So you were the reason they weren’t bullet-proof? Likely just to inconvenience him, no doubt. But, hell, it’d been eleven years for you, and only a few months for him. You weren’t a kid anymore, and that was more trouble than he needed.

-”Happy vacation!” You removed your hand from his mouth, and did jazz hands, but he immediately pushed you off and into the sand. You weren’t like this before, you were nervous, and quiet. Now you acted like he wasn’t the best assassin in the Commission and like he couldn’t end your entire existence with a yawn, at least before you respected him out of fear

-”Do you want to die?” He was only half- sarcastic, leaning over to pick up the briefcase that had fallen a few inches away

-”Ask nicely and I might say yes..” You grinned, and patted yourself off. It’d be fun to hide the fact that you’ve effectively stopped aging, and therefore couldn’t die by most natural means. The fun part of becoming a genius in the time you spent away, was knowing that you would have never likely went down this route if it weren’t for the need to survive 

-He scoffs, standing up. There’s sand everywhere, and he remembers why he hates beaches. The smell of saltwater is assaulting, and frankly, he’s considering leaving you here-- wherever and whenever you were-- since you wanted to ignore the fact that you were on a mission

-As if reading his thoughts, you offer a few words of terrible advice. “Time isn’t going anywhere, we can go back whenever we like.” 

-”We shouldn’t have left in the first place!” So he’d be a grouch about it, but you’d get him to loosen up.

-”That house right there-” You pointed, not wanting to argue with him. “-is ours.” After being pushed into the sand, you have to pluck a few grains out of your mouth, and you scrunch your face. It’s not the most delicious thing in the world..

-He turns around, and looks back at you. Just up a trail is a house in the distance, it’s large and painted blue. There’s a wooden bridge, since the path down is surrounded by long grass which crinkles and sways synchronically in waves, which sounds nice paired with the white noise of the shoreline inching up and receding steadily. 

-The sun is harsh, so he starts to walk without you. You’re excited, because you know a storm is going to sweep in over the water later today, and the lightning show is going to be fantastic. Blue crabs also come out at night around here, so maybe he wouldn’t mind a walk along the beach. Maybe you’d see something cool-- speaking of crabs, a ghost crab scurried along the sand as you watched his back, and he jolted, surprised by it

-You blink, and laugh all the sudden. You know he can hear you, but the fact that he got spooked by a little crab just delighted you in some odd way. 

-His walk to the house is a light jog for yourself, shoes echoing a hollow sound over the wood bridge, a little slippery from the bits of sand that covered the planks

-He could just spacial jump in, but for some reason he turns back, and waits for you to catch up

-”Do you like salamanders?” You ask as his hand hovers over the door knob. He ignores you, but you pat his back and point while he spins around

-It’s kind of cute, as it sits on the edge of the concrete patio. Of course, he also notices the stalls, and the sink. Outdoor showers and a fish prepping station, since most people rent these places out for fishing trips and to swim in the ocean. 

-You didn’t exactly pick the location without him in mind. You weren’t even going to force him to interact with you so long as he showed signs of enjoying himself. He was way too high strung, afterall 

-The fridge is stocked with various drinks all for the taking, so not knowing what to do next, you reach for the briefcase to hide it, but he stops you with a glare-- you back off. “Then you go put it away.” 

-There’s a very real possibility that he leaves you there, even though he’d get caught if he tried to warp away without you rigging it, but you opt to trust him. You’d already met him from the future, you know there’s a rebellious part of him in there somewhere-- in fact, you and tiny Five made really great friends, although your time together was brief, so until then it was just a matter of waiting to see him ‘blossom’. The thought of it amused you even more than him being stuck in a kid’s body some odd years from now. 

\--Some time later--

-You leave him in the house, but he’s silent when he comes and joins you where you’re sitting, the sand still warm from when the sun was shining on it, but the air chilling now that it was blocked by clouds

-You don’t ask when he leans over, nor do you blame the alcohol. You know that you don’t know everything there is to know about Five, but if he wanted to lean on you, you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad about it

-It must surprise him, the fact that you don’t jerk away. Instead you pluck the bottle out of his hands, and he doesn’t fight you. 

-”Feeling okay there, kid?” You tease, though it really hits you that he’s younger than you now, when he used to be so much older, and so much more intimidating, but now you just look at him, he’s barely in his mid twenties, and yet he’s still so much a stiff old man. You wonder if that’s just meant to be, if the universe didn’t make Five to be old and wise, holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

-You supposed you could sympathize, since you were pulled out of your own time at the end of your teen years. Wrong place, wrong time. At least you got to live, but this would have been completely unimaginable back then, you didn’t want to be this. It’s true, no one knows where their life is going to go..

-You realize he’s going to be okay, even if he’s doing it as a literal man child whose many years older than his body. You also finally admit that you’ve always sort of liked Five, even if he wasn’t always the nicest or most understanding person. He’d went through hell, an apocalypse, and time anomalies which messed with his own existence, as well as being experimented on. You could see how that would change a person, all that as a childhood

-”Be honest with me. You’re not staying for long, are you?” Ah. So he caught on then. Damn, you knew he was smart, but damn his fast working noggin. 

-So you sigh, and look at him. 

-”You like working alone, don’t you?” You take a sip of his drink, though the last time he saw you, you weren’t even old enough to legally do that. It must’ve been odd to him, but it was ever stranger to you, if not nostalgic. This was the Five you remembered from your first years at the commission, the Five who you were assigned to only for a secret. Course, you knew he found out at some point, since little Five knew about it and said so pretty bluntly. 

-You didn’t just design the briefcases, you invented them. Each and every model was your doing, and they were only possible because of Five. More specifically, they were only possible because some idiodic part of yourself which you denied was a bit more partial to Five than was professional, and the Commission knew of your future contributions when they plucked you from your time. It was no accident. 

-Little Five had his own things to say on that, and also said that your contributions were not over, but that he’d be deeply regretful one day if he didn’t say then that he was grateful for all the thing you had and were yet to do, things he danced around in order to make sure the future stayed as it would too.

-”I don’t not like having backup.” You give him a weird look. 

-”Really? I thought you hated backup.” Alright, so maybe he’s putting it wrong on purpose. He doesn’t want to say it the way he means it and have it be misinterpreted. 

-”I don’t not like having you as backup.”

-”I guess I’m good at my job.” 

-”No, you’re not.” He’d accuse, snatching the bottle away. You’d laugh a little, something of a bemused little laugh, and point to a specific area over the water while looking at your watch. Of course you’d memorize the time of each lightning strike for this night, with the thrill of seeing all of the colors flash and vein for the two of you to view

-You’d think back to little Five, and how you were writing his past right now. Hopefully he liked it, and hopefully you didn’t fuck up too much. 

-”Look.” You’d whisper, tipping over to his ear, watching the way the light bounced off the caps of tiny ripples in the water, but not seeing the bolt itself. “The next hour and a half is going to be just this, so it’s up to you if we stay out or not. I can also get a blanket.” 

-He wouldn’t reply, but he’d tip the bottle up and chug the rest of it, his breath echoing like a low pan flute through the neck of the bottle as it emptied. 

-”You didn’t.” He’d rasp, lowering his neck to release a quiet burp that gurgled in his throat. 

-”What, memorize the time of all one-hundred and forty seven lightning strikes during a single storm? I wouldn’t.” 

-”You’re right, you wouldn’t.” He’d respond. “..So why did you?” 

-Another would strike, and the echo would reverberate over the water. Of course, he wouldn’t be watching, instead he’d be watching you as he waited for an answer. Would it suffice to say that it was for the same reason you made the briefcases? 

-”Because you’d find them interesting.” 

-He’d want to say something, something snippy maybe, but he’d reel back, looking extra hard for ulterior motives. No one was ever nice to him for the sake of being nice to him, so he just didn’t understand. 

-Wanting him to watch again, you’d send him a glare and nod your head over to the clouds. He still wouldn’t cooperate, for some reason he’d be too afraid to look away.

\--Later later--

-He wouldn’t sleep well. Especially not with all of the squirming and the tossing and the turning. 

-He’d get up, and find you sitting at the counter of the bar, back faced to him. You’d stop and hesitantly spin around, tired, too tired to fall asleep. 

-”You too, huh?”

-You’d find comfort in each other’s company, maybe watch the TV, and fall asleep after. 

\--What might happen, if this were THE night--

-He’d be right there, almost tipping your stool over as he pressed forward, his every muscle in his body tensed tighter than tight

-Your hands would be fast to press against his neck, and your back would be dug into the back of the counter

-It wouldn’t be quick, he’d drag it out for as long as he could because frankly this is one hell of a kiss, let alone the first 

-Five wasn’t stupid. In denial maybe, but not stupid. He’d gather that all of this was put together by more than a whim or something to do for the sake of doing. You were actually risking a lot by being here, and that alone said some things-- not to mention the way you looked at him

-He wouldn’t lie, people had found him attractive before. That was unsurprising, and he knew the same could be said about you. But he knew this wasn’t exactly the same, because for once he found himself gobsmacked by how uncomfortable it felt, but not in a bad way

-You weren’t exactly expressing dislike for the matter

-Fighting. You wouldn’t just sit back and let him do as he pleased. As soon as you could, you would pivot him and let the stool fall out from underneath you so you could fight to reverse positions and have him pinned

-The morning would be kind. Despite both of your respective complicated feelings on biology, having been side by side, you both slept sounder than you ever had in your life, and it was out, just like that. 

-He’d be insecure about it, he’s not exactly the domestic or romantic kind, even if he would be secretly into it. He’d just been hurt enough in his childhood to not feel right or like he knew what he was doing

-But he wouldn’t deny that was the best feeling ever

-And he’d be unstatedly clingy for the rest of that morning, though it’d be back to before if you returned to the time you should have been in. He wouldn’t risk visible weakness, and that wouldn’t be to insult you. He had enough people after himself alone, he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize your wellbeing now that you’d both crossed that line.


	3. Imagines || Random details + Domestic quirks -- If you were a Hargreeves Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember I'm willing to take requests/suggestions! I'm sorry if this seems a little all over the place but I didn't like my previous imagines and decided to try something a little different!

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-You and Five never outwardly did much more than occasionally tolerate each other as children. But, what your siblings didn’t know was that you could get along, and even had a meeting spot that none of them knew of. He had the ability to teleport, so finding a secret spot your other siblings couldn’t get to wasn’t that hard. --Only, he didn’t know it was your secret spot too. 

-Instinctively, he’d go to take a breather there on the roof, even all these years after, and he’d see how it changed. More specifically, he’d find all the things you’d taken up there in a little inlet built with a wire frame and secured with tape. You must’ve redesigned the little shelter up there a million times, since some of it seemed older than the rest, and more worked on. 

-Instead of writing his name out, he used to sign off with the number five. He’d almost forgotten, but it seemed you kept even his old attempts at calligraphy that came in a small navy blue pocket-sized notebook. 

-He’d notice the height difference, and it might make him smile for a moment. Sure, missing out on each other’s childhoods should have probably been sad, but just seeing you as an adult and alive was greatly mystifying to him. 

-You’d be the last last person he went to for help (maybe because he was making excuses.) Suddenly, he’d be unsure if he wanted to see how else you changed having grown up, and he’d have a fair amount of anxiety about it. 

-You believe him quickly about everything, and he just stares in surprise, waiting for the catch. You were gullible maybe, easily influenced, perhaps that was why Klaus favored you-- especially as an enabler. (Excuses, excuses..) 

-You might find him checking out suits if passing by a clothing store, maybe missing his old body. He never fully voiced how he felt about being physically a kid again, other than a few comments on occasion. 

-He’d go oddly still if you complimented anything about his appearance. Sometimes his reaction would alternatively be a scoff, or his jaw would hinge to the point his dimples showed, but he never actually seemed upset about it. Definitely doesn’t know how to take a compliment from you, though he doesn’t get snippy with you about being in a kid’s body like he does his siblings if they ever make similar comments. 

-Shuts up if he insults you, and you agree with him. He’s used to your siblings trying to defend themselves, so he sort of short-circuits when the conversation is ended just like that. 

-The kind to apologize and follow up with “-even though I’m right.” 

-Doesn’t like being called out on his pretentiousness by you, especially if he’s hurt your feelings, and it often ends in arguments and making the situation worse. You don’t deny your lackluster qualities, but he doesn’t have to weaponize them. 

-The kind that goes in for physical contact, but hesitates and retreats. This almost always happens without your noticing, but when you do see, you occasionally match his movements before he can stop. So you’ve gotten a few hugs and some hand holding out of him, but he’d still kill you if you told anyone.

-Five really likes fatty foods, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Anything gluttonous is extremely addicting to him, since he’s gone into the habit of craving highly caloric foods in order to survive. It’s one way to treat him, though you shouldn’t expect to keep any around for long periods of time-- and for his own well being, since he gorges, you have to reel in the cholesterol bomb foods-- regardless how much he likes them. 

-Blueberries, a surprising favorite of his. Can eat them by the handful, doesn’t really ever tire of them. He also doesn’t mind sharing if you want some. (Loves when they come in big containers instead of the smaller ones.) 

-Doesn’t like overly sugary or fizzy drinks, mostly due to phantom pain-- they used to hurt his teeth. In the same regard he’s not big on citrus, and is big on brushing the backs of his teeth where he used to have cavities (apocalypses aren’t very accommodating on the hygiene end).

-Doesn’t do his own laundry, so when mom unfortunately.. passes away, it takes him a while to get used to doing it himself, and he complains about how it’s wasting his time. 

-Won’t play mobile games, dislikes anything too sparkly or rainbow-y, and feels they’re much too childish for his tastes. 

-Doesn’t mind white noise, and still puts out tins and bottles to catch rainwater. 

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\--Power related past here, but I didn’t really choose a power for you, just mentioned you had one-- 

-So, you’d know you had a power, though knew not what it was. It seemed to earn an odd quietness from your father, who never exactly targeted you for not expressing it. He seemed to know more about it than yourself, and consequently, it seemed as if he expected something to come of it that he didn’t need to train. You were still stuck with the regular check-ups though. 

-The others would often treat you as delicate, and maybe you were, but it used to get on your nerves. Perhaps that was why you liked sparring-- that also meant with Five, and made a game out of learning to predict something as unpredictable as his special jumps just by his idiosyncratic movements or where his eyes went. 

-At some point your ability went beyond reading him, you were almost able to sense it just coming, and in turn, your reaction time improved on a scale unmatchable by most of your siblings. 

-Diego would be furious at how easily you dodged his knives, even if he felt reluctant to throw them in the first place. He’d bark out things, try to take jabs at you both literally and metaphorically, but in the end being somewhat powerless meant not relying on it as a stilt. 

-They’d each have their offensive moments insulting you for your seemingly absent power, but Five would use it against you if you in an exceedingly venomous way. You usually had a pretty tight control of your emotions, but you reminded him on occasion that it just meant you had to work harder than him, and that you could best him. 

-Your siblings assumed you hated each other. It sure looked like that on the outside, since you were both at each other’s throats and Five was a special kind of ass, but they were only half right. 

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-Okay, one line imagines past here. I’m going to challenge myself since I go too heavy on the story! Though, let's be honest, I’ll still go ham on story-- 

-Microwave dinners become a shared ritual between the two of you, a sort of bonding medium, in some odd way. 

-Five has weird quirks, he likes to always be doing something with his hands-- has a like of bubbles? 

-Can’t always watch TV without seeing something that triggers a mood of his, sometimes a mix of paranoid and panic attack, or overly maniacally cynical-- some of these things were a reality, or close to reality for him, and he still hasn’t fully come to terms with them. 

-Can’t watch documentaries with him, he was there for a lot of history so he picks out all of the bias and the lies he catches. 

-Doesn’t like kissing on TV, he gets very uncomfortable in the midst of intimacy but doesn’t show it outwardly (at least he thinks he doesn’t.)

-If you and the siblings all played truth or dare, he’d learn some rather valuable information about you. 

-Leave it to Klaus to roll a joint and pass around some likely shoplifted booze during a family friendly truth or dare. (Second hand is a thing, remember this kids..)

-You’d sit across from him in the circle, back propped by a pillow, watching your siblings as they bounced back and forth, answering sensitive questions and daring each other odd things. 

-Would be asked by Diego of all people what his body count was-- he of course wouldn’t understand the sexual implication and would think number of people murdered-- he’d answer with a straight face “Too many to count.” and it would make Diego choke and laugh into his hand as he struggled to breathe. 

-Luther would raise an eyebrow at his reaction, too innocent to understand the joke, but the rest of you would get it-- all aside from Five himself that is.

-Five would often go for truth rather than dare-- and his shameful secret would be that he sometimes (more like often in the beginning) thought of somebody else while he was with Delores, and he tried to stop because he felt like he wasn’t a very good or decent partner. 

-You were a mix of both truth and dare, mostly because the questions were getting too uncomfortable. 

-Allison would rumor you something with a grin, since she asked you truth or dare and you chose dare. 

-You’d whisper something into her ear and she’d go wide eyed but not say anything, and you’d stop playing though she tried to apologize before you scurried off with shame and embarrassment. 

-None of them would find out what she rumored you to say, but he’d make a note to ask Allison later since he wasn’t above prying. 

-Likes houseplants, succulents are great, but spider plants are even greater because of how quick they multiply.

-Wouldn’t like how messy/unruly plants looked as a child, but he went without actual vegetation for years so now he’d seek places with plants. 

-Hates rats and mice, they’re either food or eating your food, they are never to be trusted. 

-Would stay up late on occasion, but actually pass out cold fairly quickly once he realized beds were a thing and didn’t hurt his joints. 

-Likes sleeping on hard surfaces still, sometimes floor, other times bathtub, even kitchen counter at some point. 

-So yeah, you half flashed Five as a good morning, now you were sure to check behind the curtains if they were drawn. (Helikeditalittlebit--)

-Would make you stay on the floor with him and have a habit of stray limbs but only if you were around (suspiciously, since he sleeps in a really compact position and doesn’t move in all other circumstances, he even pulled off the kitchen counter without a single limb dangling..) 

-Immune to smell, does not care about morning breath one bit, his face will be in yours while you sleep. 

-Body heat moocher, 100%. 

-Has a habit of ‘wasting time’ and dragging out actions because you distract him. 

-Bad influence, always tries to get you to drink if he himself is drunk. 

-Tells you to make him shut up before he says anything embarrassing, though even saying that is embarrassing to him once he’s sober again. 

-Thanks you a lot, pets his own knuckles while staring at yours, is generally weird with you when under the influence. 

-Asks you to grow out your hair so he can give a wig to Delores, real hair, and not just anyone’s. (You don’t know if this was a compliment? Last you checked, he returned Delores, so it’d be your hair on her in the middle of a clothing store, and as much as you were willing to entertain his coping mechanisms, you weren’t too sure how to feel..) 

-Confides in you that he doesn’t actually puke when he’s drunk, he did it on purpose (what that means you don’t know but you’d scoot a little further away if he wasn’t pretty much in your lap.) 

-Asks all the sudden if you have any kids, since it finally dawns on him that it might have happened-- using Allison for reference. 

-Would whine and go on a rant about gametes, and how much of his attention they took up like little parasites in his mind. (oookay, but then again, second puberty..) 

-Would fall asleep on top of you, his fists full of whatever he could latch onto to ensure you couldn’t leave him in his sleep. 

-Definitely gets hungover, but drinking in his permanently drink-virgin body is kind of great because the effects are always strong. 

-Takes quick, freezing cold showers, doesn’t use hot water at all.

-Not picky on soap, is the only one in the house that still uses bars of soap.

-As kids you would sit on the lid of the toilet seat while he showered and just talk with him, especially if he were particularly roughed up from a spar. 

-Has always felt like he wasn’t the kind for domestics but definitely wouldn’t stop him from secretly wanting-- especially now that you’re living in close quarters after all these years. 

-Likes cake without frosting, really likes cake surprisingly. 

-Can get distracted by repetitive motions, such as whisks mixing any sort of batter or ceiling fans just running-- doesn’t like repetitive noises though. 

-Has light sensitivity, phone screens must be turned down as low as possible because of eye strain. (If Five was to have a smartphone, he’d probably be opposed at first and would have a little bit of a learning curve but would adjust and find he likes the convenience) 

-Will occasionally let a word slip that’s no longer part of the modern vernacular and it’s oftentimes funny even though none of you usually know what he just said. 

-The kind to argue physical copies of books and newspapers are better but gets busted playing audiobooks and reading his news feed while actually enjoying how easy and quick it is to do, not to mention the possible multitasking. 

\--Alright I’ll be done for now, if anyone has any suggestions for oneshots or imagines feel free to comment them!--


	5. [SCRAPPED CONCEPT] Hello Number Five/ Oneshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you stay up till six AM extremely depressed and throwing ideas around. Garbage. Fun garbage. I didn't even get that far through the draft haha sad.

Scrapped concept: (I thought it was too cringey)

Circle of life. Reflected in almost every instance of life is a cycle, a new leaf destined to sprout after the plant's branches die back for the winter and lay dormant in for the thick of it. This is only helpful if you need a cheap metaphor to understand what the circle of like is, which most of us likely don't. However, you don't write the content this time, you just observe-- I do the writing for this one, a sonar wave sent out for the other eyes to pick up for ears perked. Observing is your inclination for the moment, and having the knowledge that we do, you, writing to another version of me-- you-- in a different timeline and a possibly different universe in some common circumstances, (forgive the struggle to understand pronouns when you're a fragment of a single infinite being stretched across all universes who likes to tell itself what it's other parts are doing at any given moment in the form of what we like to call stories if not just to cope), it seems you’ve received the signal, this being our biomarker. Like neurons or a game of telephone, information is passed along, though much like time, neither of us remember the original message after so much distortion. At least, this is the torture that dear father has decided is our training in the metaphysical aspects of being in current and among many other things, a Hargreeves child. 

Being a replacement is often a thoughtless endeavor. No one often thinks as they stand on the pavement in front of their old family house that just centuries ago their great grandparents were envisioning a grand structure as some sort of pipe dream to place on that plot of land in front of them. Yet, here is their distant progeny, standing in the same spot, occupying the same space, fulfilling a requirement of human proportionate to land in square foot. 

Hence, a slot was to be filled. He needed a being relative to time and space. He found one. 

This, as your father had instructed in hopes of not losing another as had occurred with your predecessor, is the basic nature of time. The concept of a path of least resistance finds itself reflexive in even the most misunderstood of sciences, time itself naturally being one of them. 

Mom had you pose in your academy outfit, a neutrally pleasant expression cemented over your features for the sake of a portrait to hang adjacent to another, as a reminder. If he could, Mr. Hargreeves saw no immorality in finding the closest fit to a replacement as he could should any more children fall out of commission. Ben’s most similar had also suffered unthinkable horrors across multiple timelines, so plucking one out of the coup would be difficult, since they seemed to be closely prion, isotopic, falling in fission. Of course the use of unrelated vernacular for the purpose of an easy meaningless metaphor would be easy, since one of you had to know. 

Universal omnipotence in its own was being smart enough to see what you lack, yet not knowing how to obtain it. Of course capitalistic were the diagrams of exponential growth flashed in quick wastes of lifetimes trying to figure out the formula, knowing how limitless both ambition and potential were, but this information was useless to you. 

You and I were, afterall, the one both singularly and plurally tired of trying to become some ultimatum of a god. Believe it or not, being infinitely everything means that part of you can also oppose being so, since all conditions are true in the can canning universal glitch of a horror mess that was the problematic marriage of time, space, and everything in between. The schrodinger teenager dilemma. In that thinking, we’re both infinitely powerful, and the weakest of us in all existence. Did I mention we’re prions? There’s a specific quote on the strength of individual links that comes to mind, but nevertheless, we have one current dilemma.

We, Number Five, did not predict the return of he, Number Five. So much for replacement. The original, the only being able to elude detection from our current humble stake of siphoning boundless knowledge by the you’s that are trying to kill us two we’s. 

…  
More concepts:

Did I mention I’ve been marked for termination? No? Sayonara my other, now you too must elude the ever growing I’s. 

You’re alone now, and reading in hindsight these words like a reel, what I have left you. 

As a we, our word can to some extent become reality, which is partly the nature of our power and influence. Universal crossing and termination can only be accomplished by the majoral collective and highly experimental sciences. 

Learning individuality for the first time! Metaphor

Coming of age/ Personal growth metaphors everywhere with the severance of your connection.

Did I mention that he’s hot? Cliche

Going to pretend I don’t see it! Cliche

Hate you-hate me but neither of us really have good reason other than circumstance relationship building


	6. [SCRAPPED CONCEPT] Time Overlord and I /Oneshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one of those scrapped ideas, next I'm thinking about publishing some intimate scenes sans the whole sex part. Just one of those cat and mouse type things, and obvious sexual tension that isn't acted upon until surprise, it is, what a twist! 
> 
> Tell me what you think, if you feel like it, I'd appreciate it!

He sat down however long ago into the stale mustard yellow disgrace that you called a loveseat, having plucked from a shelf the antique typewriter which had been low on paper, he noted, looking at the cartridge. Nothing like having an old friend stuck in a similar predicament, but the strange part of that was knowing that ultimately the one stirring two cups of coffee in an office drink corner was the one indirectly responsible for everything, and he meant the whole shit show.

Que in fabled space-time overlord making Five Hargreeves a cup of coffee. It was almost absurd, but even more so abstruse was the fact that he trusted you to not poison him. Part of his job here was to casually ignore the fact that in previous you were his greatest enemy whose face didn’t even have a name, and now he was here, looking to prevent your descension into evil and creating the commission.

He could just try and kill you, but that’s the thing-- he couldn’t. There were fifty fifty chances that your powers had remained intact during his messing with the timeline and travelling all the way back to summer of 2003 where, in his everlasting youthful body, he’d inserted himself into your life as another teen to befriend. He had seen small suspicious signs of them when the odds had seemed to favor you and everyone knows Murphy’s Law, but he couldn’t be certain. 

(..Excuses..)

If he learned anything, it was that public school was vicious, nobody paid attention to you as a child, and you hardly spoke unless spoken to. It didn’t take a magnifying glass to see the clear signs of hyper intelligence budding, however, and he wondered if he could even try to stifle it. Mostly, it reflected in a little.. Experiment. Walking to school one day, backpacks swung over shoulders, he noticed that you looked particularly worn. He thought the dark eye circles were a little odd, but that they may have just been natural in part due to biology-- however that day you looked nearer to death than some of the corpses he’d had to dispose of on various occasions. 

What made that dangerous, was that if you were figuring out how to pause time, Five wouldn’t easily be able to tell. 

-

He’d found out about your hotel stay, and though disturbed to know that you’d progressed as far as this in your manipulations, he almost felt.. Sympathetic. You were taking things and paying it forward as far as he could tell, and you only did what was necessary. Once again, it didn’t matter what you deserved-- for universal karma, for homelessness, he didn’t know what to think. It was easier when he’d just written this off as another kill mission, another headcount, but he dared to get curious and lately, cautious in spite of himself. 

He didn’t want to admit he was making excuses, but you were just.. Such a sweet kid, and he didn’t like anyone, especially not children, so.. It was saying a lot. ...Kid. You were a kid. Just because you’d gotten older didn’t mean you were anywhere close to his age, that he’d have to remind himself. It’s just, you could have fooled him all these years. 

(..Excuses excuses..) 

-  
“What the hell are you doing?!” He burst through the doors, pinning your legs to the railing with his body and forcing your wrists in place. 

He’d found you trying to slip off the balcony, backwards. He should have known, should have seen it! His chest started puffing, his quiet seething and anger at himself making him all the more frazzled. You had every right to take the whole world for all he cared! You gave too much away, to the point you wanted to give your life away, give, give, you never acted selfishly, never retaliated, never cared to tell him you wanted to- 

..He didn’t really know what he was doing when he let go of your wrists, and allowed you to slowly lift them up, the marks of his palms freshly bruised over them. This wasn’t school or college anymore, he couldn’t see who was hurting you. All these years, what was supposed to be a simple detour and back home he would go, see if it changed anything, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

He was getting what he wanted, but he didn’t want it at all. 

“...I KNOW, Five.” Know that he was here to kill you? Or did you know that he’d never seen things the way you made him as you forced him to slow down, know that you made him realize that he’d rather suffer the apocalypse than erase you from existence? 

“I know that I’m just going to ruin everything, that’s what I am.” 

“No,” He started, his mind blanking for all but a simmering cool. “No you don’t.” You don’t know that. 

-

His back slammed into the pavement in front of the academy, and he tried to reach out before it was too late, but you’d just waved him off with a bittersweet goodbye.

... But then a hand shot out and pushed you with him, and he had a feeling he knew who’d do that. 

-

“Here goes childhood again.” He huffed, already knowing what his next move would be. You eluded him once, you weren’t going to do it again. 

-

What a reunion. With you there in front of him, finally, after the longest search of his life, he was close to actually murdering you for hiding all this time. You continued to be the center point that his life revolved around, to the point his father had noticed the difference and even spoke to him like an adult-- and how dare he know more about you than Five himself? 

(Reginald understanding time shenanigans and actually having tabs on your whereabouts because aliens.)


	7. Imagines || Intimate Number Five --(NSFW mentions) Scenarios PT.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/6RyXcXPQT2w
> 
> I’m writing these a little differently, so I’ll divide between fleshed out scenarios and the previous less detailed way I’ve written imagines. It’s not that big of a difference, though putting hyphens in front of sentenses looks a little stupid doesn’t it? Just experimenting over here, keeping it horny. 
> 
> I’m sorry that I’ve failed to deliver on multiple occasions. I hope this is to your enjoyment, because if it isn’t, sad banana blubber potato with a side tub of vegan poultry ice cream and steak seasoning. 
> 
> I plan on doing more of these, so yeh. It’s also currently 6:43 --- actually 7:03 AM Labor Day 2020, so let’s see how this reads when I’m actually awake.

.  
.  
.

1  
Board games and unbridled rage were synonymous when it came to Five, because he thought himself a strategic genius, and he sort of was-- that’s sort of why he was incredibly easy to mess with, because he frequently liked to underestimate you, and that was the way you downplayed yourself. Dumb, half braindead, it was really just easier. And you had access to the whole nuclear control panel, so it was show time. 

Only thing was, Five knew this about you, and he knew everything you were doing was in itself a strategy, but instead of focusing on the game you were initiating psychological warfare. So, All Star playing on loop in the background, he dared to rip the board off the table, shoot up from his seat, and grab you by the collar while the veins in his neck popped and he went so red he looked like he’d pass out. Barking endless disturbingly detailed threats, you sat there, calmly, pleased with yourself. However, there was one way you could make this exceedingly worse, and as soon as the red button presented itself, you pressed it. 

“Okay boomer.” At that moment, the song had started back at the beginning and played the line ‘I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed’, and you looked so smug as he caught it. Oh you.. you!! YOU!! 

“AAGH!” He flew his hands up, ignoring gravity to fly over the table and strangle you. Not that it would be any skin off your back, so he directed all of his weight onto your stomach and made sure your back collided with the concrete floor, not caring that it wouldn’t hurt you much. Intent here was much more important in the context of his actions. 

Your hair sprawled out all over, face pointed at the door with a cheshire grin as he shook you up and down screeching a string of all sorts of indistinguishable profanities. His legs had you straddled as his fists made work of your shirt, and the loud shredding rip sounded over his twelve year old boy raging. 

He doubled back, eyes wide, waiting for you to say something. You were durable, but compared to you your clothes were surprisingly sheer. You were however, a terrible person, and brought your hands up to his dark plaid sweater, pushing the blazer out of the way. 

“Eye for an eye.” You shrugged, not bothering to listen to the peep of a plea that popped out of his previously heatedly profane mouth.

Guy liked his layers. His tie free from the sweater, dangled from his neck down your face as you teared his shirt straight down the middle, finally to see the white button-up he hid underneath the rest. He sat there in all of his shellshock, just.. Letting you, very uncharacteristic for Five. He didn’t even try to stop you or divert your attention with another sailing fist, he just listened to the rip and watched as his tie dropped down, grazing your bare skin and settling at your neck with a quick swoop.

He, in all of his paleness-- curse it-- sustained his red complexion, cleared his throat, and when Allison and Diego, as well as eventually Luther walking in on your civil game played as if your shirts weren’t completely torn, not one of them actually knew what to say. However, it wasn’t long until he was completely livid once again, and halfway ready to smash the table into splinters of wood. 

.  
.  
.

2  
As luck would have it, the power would be out because Five had been tinkering with something he shouldn’t have and in the meantime while Pogo went to figure out why the backup generators weren’t turning on, you were the one who chose to check up on him. 

He’d been holding a lamp close to the wall, chalk scribbling something before he paused because he heard your approach. You wouldn’t say anything, knowing that this was his way of sulking, instead you’d just plop yourself on his bed and stretch out, squirming, shifting over the cotton sheets. Usually he wouldn’t pay you any mind, but for some reason, he found himself a little distracted. 

Five would notice how you weren’t as small as you were before, that your foot would be close to the edge of the mattress, and your knee would rise slowly, uncomfortably, a look about you in the splatter of orange that contrasted the dark blue shadows cast from it. Your eyes weren’t on him, instead they were pointed up at the ceiling, snagging on the reflection of glass from the window and lamp, all with the rain clearer now that the radiators weren’t running. It was a little cold, though that surely wasn’t the reason why you seemed uncomfortable. 

He’d recently showered, earlier in the day, so he didn’t smell. That couldn’t be it. 

He’d try to get back to work, though his mind would go back to deducing, sifting through possibilities that were critical of himself and suddenly insecure. His rational sense knew it wasn’t him, or maybe it was indirectly, but he didn’t think it was the fact that the power was out either that had you restless. Still, with each repositioning his mind became harder and harder to redirect and focus, until he was smiling to himself in remembrance of a few choice childhood memories. He’d peek back at you, still able to see the silhouette of him and yourself chasing each other and jumping on the mattress like buffoons even though it was against your father’s wishes and you could be scolded for it. 

He’d be alone in his staring for a while until finally, you’d flicker a quick glance at him, a slow breath in, a shaky breath out. More quirming, you’d put an arm over your eyes, breathing suddenly shallow. 

Worry suddenly washed over him. Were you hurt?? Did you have an injury somewhere that you’d failed to report? Somehow finding that he actually cared a lot for some reason, he didn’t even think twice about slapping the chalk down next to the eraser and leaving the lamp over by the desk, he was going over to investigate. 

Having garnered his full undivided attention, you sat up, not giving him any context. After a few awkward moments of staring, him waiting for something to be said, your clingy hands grabbed him by the lapels and made quick work of his mind before it went imploding on itself. 

You had that look in your eyes. Maybe he was wrong, but he was starting to think he wasn’t. 

Then you pulled ever so lightly, and he felt himself budging, hesitantly. He never even in a million years even thought about this actually happening with anyone, he’d dismissed the possibility years ago. Everything just seemed so far away when even a hand held could be taken extremely out of context and well, he wasn’t exactly the kind to participate in regular domestic pursuits. 

He was thinking this was going to be a simple kiss, complete with the butterflies and somehow romantic perfection. However, simple it wasn’t, and hungry it quickly became as he gave up on trying to support himself and just let you both fall back. 

.  
.  
.  
|| In response to imagine #2 ||

-Klaus would know because Ben would be traumatized. When Klaus was sleeping around, it was fine, he expected it, but oh no, not these two people that he loved and thought of as siblings, that just completely messed up the dynamic. He’d probably be rocking back and forth, as much as you two danced around each other, he just didn’t see it happening, it was so messed up. 

-Your siblings would notice that the two of you were the only ones that hadn’t come down yet, which is definitely odd for Five, if not you. Klaus would be acting strangely and making weird comments that only he understood, though Vanya and Allison would give each other looks. 

-Pogo in his all-knowing wisdom would just leave it alone, though surprise it wasn’t, he’d been there for your childhood and understood before the rest did, not that he could keep it from Mr. Hargreeves back then who was surprisingly quiet on the matter. 

-Diego would too be caught in the morality of it, thinking of his own relationship with Lila. He knew you two got along after some reconciliation, but he didn’t think you were in love, so it was a little bit of a surprise to him. However, he was definitely chill about it. 

-Luther had grown up a little bit by now, so if anything he’d just wonder if it would have been him and Allison in your place as the new rumor around the house if things would have gone differently. 

-Allison, she’d want to pry, badly. She wanted to know if it was true or if Klaus was just being Klaus, though you had been awkward enough around each other to the point of Five going full-blown nervous complete with ticks and all, so she didn’t. If anything, that may have been enough of an answer for her. 

-Vanya gets it, she understands wanting to hide something like this. That’s probably why she gets the furthest in gaining information from Five, because he actually trusts her enough for some advice. You were fine with acting like nothing had happened, and that blew his anxieties through the roof, though Vanya reassured him that you were probably doing it for his own sake and had liked him a lot for a long time now. 

-You wouldn’t do anything again, not anything that.. Involved, he couldn’t even bring himself to be in the same room alone with you for extended periods of time because he was just so scared for some reason, and Five didn’t get scared. He was handling it extremely poorly, so it’d be you that would need to reach out first.

-At least, that's what you’d think, until he’d go from trying to explain something for the sake of a distraction to blurting out that he was in love with you and then he’d look like he wanted to melt into the wall that he found himself pressing against. 

-He wasn’t warping away however, he was waiting expectantly for you to say anything about it, anything at all. You’d somehow be the more composed one this time around, and patient with him. 

-”I’m sorry, I know we were nowhere near ready for that, but I..” You wouldn’t exactly know how to explain that you were in fact, completely drowning in certain desires, and they weren’t just a random throwaway occurrence that could have happened with just anyone. “I needed you.” Was all you had to offer, obviously uncomfortable as well. This was your fault after all, but hearing those words had been the final nail in the coffin. 

-He’d have a newfound appreciation for the teachings of Epicurus and Diogenes, especially Diogenes, because he’d finally gone off the rails, unhinged. Intimate feelings for another person were terrible and he didn’t think he’d be able to survive them because he didn’t have enough time to worry, he was trying to figure out how to fix the timeline for a fourth time. 

-You’d make a point of doing nice things for him as an apology for putting all of this extra stress on him, but the first time you met him back in his bedroom he’d started sweating bullets because very vividly he could recall everything that happened in here. 

-You’d force him to lay down, ask if it was okay that you stayed, mess with his hair, do anything to soothe him since he hadn't slept in days. He also smelled putrid, so you tried your best to put up with it, but you caved and brought him to the bathroom handing him all sorts of nice soaps and some swim trunks. 

-When a drunk Klaus and Allison walked in on you, fully clothed, untangling Five’s severely matted hair while he sat in a bubble bath half alive and half soothed to death, they’re brand new number one fans because the dynamic is just so fantastic and the fact that you got him so unwound that he’s basically a step from knocked out is just adorable in some odd twisted way. You’d already, well, did it, so the fact that he was in there with some little blue shorts was even more funny. 

-He groans at them to get out and stop giggling because excuse him he is in heaven and will murder them for ruining it. 

-After spending more than an hour doing that, it’s back in bed, and you were going to leave him to it but he asks you to stay. You definitely haven’t ever felt this painfully enamored with anyone before, so you come back after changing into something clean and rejoin him by his side. 

-He’s not really been a morning person since then. He’s the kind to hide under blankets until summoned with a cup of coffee and groan if someone else comes to wake him. He’s trying to take better care of his basic needs now, and that means catching up on years of sleep. 

-As much as your relationship is undefined from then on, it’s really domestic and kind on him, as much as he has a hard time understanding he’s allowed to slow down. 

-You do eventually end up talking about your explosive first night, and his narcissism does all sorts of things hearing about how you feel and felt about him-- to the point you were that bad just being around him. His ego goes from small to ginormous in an instant, but though less innocent then he had fantasied because believe it or not he was a slight romantic, he wouldn’t have traded it for anything else. Especially not when, well, it was violently erotic to the point of being reduced to barely a braincell left in tact.


End file.
